


estuaries

by SnitorisSnape



Category: Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson
Genre: Character Study, Compromise, Gen, Insecurity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-14
Updated: 2019-05-14
Packaged: 2020-03-05 14:33:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,587
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18830614
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SnitorisSnape/pseuds/SnitorisSnape
Summary: When the autumn leaves sink down, so too, does Moomin’s heart.Moomin knows he can’t ask Snufkin to stay, it wouldn’t be fair. But what Moomin doesn't understand is whyhehas to be the one to change.





	estuaries

**Author's Note:**

> i've got a lot of feelings about the clash between moomin's neediness and snufkin's independence. here, i wrote them.

The sky was thick and heavy, just a stone’s throw above the rooftops of Moomin Valley. The rain had dragged the clouds down to the earth to soak the ground. What few leaves remained, clinging stubbornly to branches or in piles yet to be raked, had gone from firm and crisp to a waterlogged mess. 

And the same was happening to the rest of the valley; the brisk, sharp air of autumn giving way to the cold slush of winter.

Moomin gave another heavy sigh, laying down on the porch with his chin in his hands. He was close enough to the edge of the roof that the water hitting the steps splashed back on his snout, wetting his fur. Moominmamma swept the porch around him, carefully, so as not to push any dust onto her son. 

Moominpappa sat at the table, pipe loosely in his mouth and reading the morning’s paper, while Little My sat in the open doorway drinking the last of the raspberry lemonade straight from the pitcher. Moominmamma had offered her a glass a few times, in a subtle attempt to explain she didn’t want My to drink straight from the pitcher. But Little My knew no subtly, and had respectfully turned down the offer.

“All he does is sigh and sigh,” Little My complained, her nose scrunched. Moomin ignored her, eyes on the pitched tent across the river. He sighed again. 

“See! He just did it again, Moominmamma!”

“He’s just a bit heartsick this time of year,” Moominmamma explained. “Young love can do that to you.”

“Yuech!” Little My kicked her feet up into the air. “I’m never gonna do that, I’ll never fall in love.”

A patient, amused smile crept on Moominmamma’s face. “Are Little Mys above such things?” she asked. Little My nodded vigorously, then downed the last of the pitcher.

Moominpappa turned the page, then looked at his son, migrating in and out of the conversation as he often did when distracted by his reading. 

“Why don’t you go talk to him, Moomin?” His father offered.

Moomin sighed, and shook his head.

“Moomin darling, can you lift your legs?” Moominmamma requested. “I need to get under them.”

Moomin obliged, but still didn’t turn his gaze from the tent.

Moominpappa frowned. “You’re not thinking of asking him to stay again, are you?” He set his paper down onto the table. “I’ve told you before, a young man like Snufkin needs his time alone.”

“Yes I know, papa.” Moomin gave his head a slight shake. “I wasn’t going to ask him to stay this year.”

“Well, that’s good then,” Moominpappa gave a nod of approval and looked back at his page. “Asking Snufkin to stay would be like if I ever asked Moominmamma to stop planting tulips in the spring.”

“That’s a good point, dear.” Moominmamma halted in her sweeping. “It would be like if I ever asked papa to stop writing his memoirs. We can’t ask people to stop doing the things that make them happy.”

Another raindrop slid off the rooftop and onto the steps, splashing Moomin’s nose. He scrunched his eyes tight and pressed his paws against them. “Then what is it like when Snufkin expects me to be okay when he leaves?” Despite his best effort, Moomin’s voice still cracked as he asked it.

“Oh,” Moominmamma breathed out. Her brow furrowed. She looked at her husband, and saw him mirror her concerned expression. 

“Well, you see, Moomin,” Moominpappa began. “It’s a bit like, well,” he shook his head and decided to try again. “Life is all about the balance between- No… Perhaps it’s like-”

Moominmamma cleared her throat, cutting off her husband’s rambling. She gave him a pointed look.

“Err.. perhaps you’d like to help me get more firewood from the cellar, Little My?” he asked.

She hopped up, placing the pitcher onto the table. “Sure, Moominpappa.” She appeared just as eager as he was to leave this uncomfortable conversation. Moomin shifted, sitting up so he wasn’t blocking the stairs. His father gave him a pat on the head as he walked past, and Little My a soft kick to his side, as her own way of encouragement.

Moominmamma carefully rested the broom against the railing before pulling up her apron to sit next to her son on the steps.

“You know Moomin, Snufkin doesn't mean to hurt you by leaving,” she told him.

Moomin gave a slow nod. “Yes, I know. And I don’t mean to hurt him by asking him to stay, either.”

“Of course you don’t.” Moominmamma took her sons hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “And even though I’m confident Snufkin still cares about you, I think you won’t feel better unless you hear it from him.”

Moomin took a deep breath and stood up, dusting off his knees. “You’re right mama, I’m being silly. I’ll go talk to Snufkin.”

“I think that’ll be for the best, Moomin.” She stood up as well, giving her son a smile and a tight hug.

*

Moomin knew it was polite to knock, but it was rather hard to knock on a tent, and too loud to call over the rain, so he just stuck his head inside.

Snufkin was sitting on his bedroll, cross-legged. His fishing pole lay on his lap, and he was frowning in concentration as he threaded a new fishing lure onto the tip. His hat was not on, a rare sight, but instead on the ground beside the bed.

“May I come in?” Moomin asked.

Snufkin smiled. “Of course.”

Moomin gave himself a little shake so as not to bring the rain with him, then crawled in.

“To be honest, I’m surprised you didn’t come by sooner,” he said, scooting over to give Moomin room on the blankets as well.

Moomin sat down beside his friend. “I know it’s foolish,” he admitted with a sigh, “but right before winter, when I’m with you, all I can think about is how much I’ll miss you when you leave.”

Snufkin stopped in threading the lure and set down the pole. He seemed to sense this wasn’t the kind of conversation for multitasking.

“Is that so, Moomin?” he asked. Moomin sadly nodded.

“I worry and I worry,” Moomin told him. “I know you’ll always come back in spring, and everyone always says you have to go, but I can’t help how lonely I feel.”

Snufkin placed a hand on Moomin’s shoulder, but remained silent, allowing his friend to finish.

“And I know you say you can’t bring me with you because you want to be alone, but I can’t help but think I would have to be very cross with you to want to be alone for so long.”

Snufkin gave a soft chuckle. “We’re very different people, aren’t we?”

Moomin offered a weak smile. “I suppose so.”

Snufkin scooted a little bit closer. “I promise I’m not upset with you, Moomin. I don’t leave because of you,” he pulled Moomin a little closer with the hand on his shoulder. “But I do come back every spring because I want to see you.”

Moomin rested his head on Snufkin’s shoulder. “Do you miss me in the winter?”

“Oh yes, Moomin. Terribly.”

“Oh,” Moomin smiled despite himself. “I suppose that’s not good, but I can’t help but feel happy.”

Snufkin laughed. “I think it’s okay to be a little selfish like that sometimes.”

“I suppose…” Moomin looked down at his paws. “But maybe it’s too selfish to get like this every autumn. I should try harder to remind myself you’ll be back in the spring, and that you’re not leaving because you’re mad at me.”

Snufkin frowned. “Is that what you tell yourself, Moomin?”

“Yes,” Moomin admitted. “I don’t want to, but those thoughts keep slipping in. I tell myself not to worry, and I tell myself it’s alright, but sometimes those thoughts are too loud.”

“What nasty thoughts to have,” Snufkin said. He patted Moomin on the head. “I’m glad that you try not to listen to them.”

Moomin closed his eyes, trying to focus on Snufkin’s hand rubbing soothing circles into his fur and the relaxing sound of rain hitting the tent. He tried to commit this moment memory, so he could try and come back here the next time he was scared and lonely about Snufkin leaving again.

“You shouldn’t have to try to fight them alone, though,” Snufkin said after a minute. Moomin looked up, a little confused. “Those thoughts,” Snufkin explained. “I’d like to try and help. Can I, Moomin?”

Moomin gave an eager nod, then hesitated. “But I don’t want to ask too much of you. It might being annoying to have to reassure me all the time.”

Snufkin shook his head. “I don’t mind. Even if I must start every sentence with, ‘Hi, Moomin. I will leave in the winter, but it’s not because I’m mad at you. In fact, I do miss you, and cannot wait to see you in the spring.’”

Moomin barked out a laugh. “I’m sure you wouldn’t need to go that far!”

Snufkin shrugged. “If you are willing to say goodbye to me in the winter, then it’s only fair I make sure you’re okay when I go.”

Moomin leaned his head back down onto Snufkin’s shoulder. “For now, can you just pat my head?” he asked.

Snufkin laughed. “Of course.”

Moomin shut his eyes, and nestled closer, into the crook of Snufkin’s neck.

“Thanks, Snufkin,” Moomin said, with a happy little sigh.

**Author's Note:**

> moomin's insecurity really reminds me of my own back when i first started dating my girlfriend. i liked the compromise the two had in the 90s show, that snufkin told moomin he wouldn't leave until moomin started hibernating, so moomin wouldn't have to say goodbye. but i wanted to try my hand at a different one for them, too. i think it's important that we accept asking things of your partner like "please reassure me?" is a fine thing to do.


End file.
